


Four Times Neil Accidentally Turned Andrew On

by alex_wh0



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew is a hoe for Neil, Fluff, M/M, Neil knows what he's doing, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22585378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_wh0/pseuds/alex_wh0
Summary: Literally what it says on the box.I know nothing about French or car maintenance, so forgive me!
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 45
Kudos: 643
Collections: All for the Game Fics





	Four Times Neil Accidentally Turned Andrew On

I.

Neil licked the sauce off the spoon, before blowing slightly on it, and Andrew felt a frisson of _something_ go through him at the sight.

“I think it needs more salt. And some thyme. Andrew watch the pot,” Neil muttered and moved to the cupboards, leaving Andrew watching him from his perch on the counter.

_Who knew Neil Josten could cook?_

The day Nicky found out, he had squawked, waking a very disgruntled Kevin from the couch in the Columbia house.

“What the hell?”

Neil had just calmly looked at Nicky and went back to the eggs he was scrambling.

He had begun with eggs and toast, then bacon, and that memorable morning, he had set down a plate of the fluffiest pancakes drizzled with chocolate syrup in front of Andrew.

Andrew had a hundred things he wanted to say and probably do, if Neil let him, but he stared back at him and proceeded to demolish every single pancake on his plate, much to Neil’s delight.

When the rest of the Foxes got wind that Neil could cook, they pitched in with requests.

Sugared cream puffs for Renee, six of which Andrew had swiped.

Jalapeno and hashbrown sliders with cheese for Nicky.

Matt had asked for shakshuka, and Neil had surprisingly delivered.

Dan and Allison had wanted pizza, and Neil had again surprised them by making it from scratch.

Even Aaron asked him for a cheeseburger out of spite, and got one perfectly made that shut him up for a while.

When Kevin asked for something healthy, Neil made him dark chocolate granola bars, and he couldn’t complain.

Andrew never asked for anything, but then he didn’t have to. He had watched quietly as Neil made cookies for him, topped with store-bought ice cream. He had watched quietly while he folded pastry sheets in intricate patterns, brushing them with sugar syrup before pushing them into the oven. He watched as Neil turned the kitchen counter into a battlefield, and silently brushed flour off his nose when he turned to Andrew for a kiss.

Cooking soothed Neil. It turned Andrew on impossibly.

But he would never tell him that. Ever.

Not when Neil took a knife to the vegetables, not when Neil kneaded dough for pizza, not when Neil whisked chocolate cake batter, folding carefully cut pieces of dark chocolate into it.

Not when a frown of concentration that took residence between his eyebrows, pulling them together, not when he wiped his messy hands on a once-white apron, not when he gave Andrew a batch of gooey double chocolate brownies that he had woken up at the ass crack of dawn to make just for him.

He wouldn’t tell Neil, no. But he suspected the junkie knew anyway.

“I asked you to watch the pot, not me,” he now smirked, standing in front of Andrew, sweat curling his hair, blue eyes sharp with suppressed laughter.

“You’re more interesting than the sauce, Josten,” Andrew murmured, pulling Neil closer.

Neil just smirked in response. Andrew had to shut him up. It was absolutely necessary.

The sauce turned out just fine.

II.

“We have to call for assistance,” Andrew said, looking at the smoke curling from the hood of the Maserati.

They were stranded on a highway with nothing except miles and miles of road in sight.

“Do you have a toolkit somewhere?” Neil asked, poking his head out of the front window.

Andrew narrowed his eyes at him. “Why?”

“To ask it how it’s doing,” Neil rolled his eyes. “Why d’you think?”

“If you think I’m going to let you put your hands on my car, Josten, let me tell you that you’re exceptionally misinformed.”

Neil had just rolled his eyes again and looked at Andrew expectantly. _Fine then._

“It’s in the boot,” he told Neil and turned to look at the hood. He usually kept his cars in good condition. If this was going to cost him money, he’d have to dip into his funds, and that wasn’t very reassuring.

By then, Neil had brought the toolkit out, but was staring at the rear end of the car.

“I think it’s a coolant problem.”

_What._

“Maybe it’s just condensation, but it could be a coolant problem. I think the engine is overheating anyway, but best to check once,” Neil jabbered on before opening the hood and peering into it.

Andrew just looked on silently, a little stunned. He should have seen this coming. Neil had been on the road for eight years after all. But he had no idea why Neil’s extensive knowledge of car repair was turning him on, in the middle of a highway with a crisis looming no less.

The junkie was bent over the hood, peering into its depths, and Andrew cursed himself for buying Neil the pair of jeans that was now spectacularly hugging his thighs. That should be made illegal, he thought wryly, before joining Neil.

“What is it, then?”

“The radiator clamp’s loose. Needs tightening,” Neil grunted and dipped into the toolkit.

While Neil went to work, Andrew dipped into his cigarette stash and valiantly tried to keep his boner at bay.

Close to an hour later, Neil wiped his hands on a greasy rag and shut the hood.

“I think we’re good to go. How many of these have you smoked,” he asked Andrew, plucking the fourth cigarette from his fingertips and taking a drag.

Andrew pushed him onto the hood of the car.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil gasped and Andrew kissed him into silence.

“Are you ha-”

“Shut up, junkie.”

Neil smirked up at Andrew before biting down softly on his earlobe.

“Really, Andrew? Fixing the car?” he whispered, snorting, and Andrew shivered.

If he had to step on the accelerator to get to Columbia faster, then Neil didn’t mention it.

III.

Andrew lugged his bag on to his shoulder, tugging at the straps absently. Whoever decided that 8am classes were effective deserved pain. He waited impatiently for Neil to make his way down the stairs, right foot tapping out a staccato beat. 

Every semester, they took a class together. Andrew had no patience for mathematics and Neil had no headspace for literature, so in Neil’s fourth year, they settled for psychology.

This particular Monday morning found Andrew in a grumpy mood. Neil was late and he wasn’t looking forward to an 8am class. _But who was, really?_

A few guys from the track team were also lounging near the Fox Tower entrance – loud and raucous. Andrew grit his teeth; no amount of coffee made getting up this early worth it.

Neil breezed past them, and came to a stop in front of Andrew, in a Fox hoodie that said ‘03 Minyard’ on the back, hair tousled and damp from the shower, eyes bright. Too bright for 07:45am, Andrew grumbled under his breath.

“What’s that, Andrew?”

“Fucking junkie.”

Neil just hummed, scuffing his shoes on the concrete. They got ready to leave when someone called out Neil’s name.

“Hey, Josten.”

Neil turned around with a frown on his face, but his expression brightened when he saw who it was.

“Hey, Steve, what’s up?”

And delved into rapid French and Andrew felt both annoyance and arousal war with each other within him. Ever since Neil had picked their lock, slammed their dorm room open and swore at Kevin in furious French three years ago, Andrew had paid special attention to the way his mind and dick both came alive in tandem, the treacherous bastards. When Neil had spoken to him in flawless German for the first time, sounding angry, annoyed and _broken_ , his numb mind had signaled something to him that he obstinately refused to dwell on.

It was interesting to note that he reacted the same way, days, months, years later. Neil probably knew, but Andrew didn’t say anything because he knew how the smug idiot would react.

He heard laughter and looked up to see the two still talking. Glowering, he lit a cigarette and balled up his fist in his pocket.

_Let’s take the 8am, Andrew. It’ll be fine, Andrew. Oh look at my perfect French, Andrew._

He viciously ground out the cigarette beneath his boot and cursed stupid track players named Steve.

Neil walked up to him, one eyebrow quirked. Andrew just glowered back at him.

“Ça va?” he asked, smirk intact on his face.

_The bastard knew._

Andrew wordlessly pulled him in, eyebrow quirked in a silent question, and kissed him, knocking the air out of Neil. He circled his arms around his waist and pulled him flush against his chest while continuing the kiss. Neil broke apart looking dazed.

“Wow,” he breathed out.

Andrew slipped his hand under the hoodie – _his hoodie_ – and brushed Neil’s bare hip.

“Fuck, Andrew. Wha-?”

Andrew pulled him back into the Fox Tower, making sure Neil’s hoodie was visible to the track team.

He pushed Neil against the staircase and growled, “Say something.”

“What?” Neil gasped.

“Anything,” Andrew bit out.

Neil looked into Andrew’s eyes and smiled, devious and slow. Bending down, he brushed his lips against the shell of Andrew’s ear and whispered, “C _rème brûlée.”_

Andrew drew back with a blank look and stomped upstairs in silence, Neil’s laughter following him back to the dorm.

“Drew, we have class. Come back here.”

Who ever thought 8am classes were useful, anyway.

IV.

“Where are they?”

Renee stepped into the throng of people crowding the basement room where the post-match party was in full swing. She passed Kevin, who was downing his seventh vodka shot, to reach Nicky, who was laughing at something Dan was saying.

“Hey, Nicky.”

“Renee,” Nicky grinned.

“Where are Allison and Neil?”

“Oh. Allison said something about finally doing it, and dragged Neil along,” he shrugged, smiling at her.

“If you’re looking for a dance partner, I’m right here,” he winked, and Renee just smiled at him.

She fought her way back to the entrance where Andrew was leaning against the doorframe. To a casual observer, it would seem like he was blank, but Renee knew better. She’d spot that tense set to his shoulders any day.

“Nicky says Ally took Neil out for something,” she said, leaning on the opposite side of the door.

Andrew flicked her a look, but she detected the annoyance there.

“Ask him to come up to the terrace,” he said, and wasted no time in getting away from the party. Matches against USC were extra tense, because Kevin’s nervous energy infected the team too. However apathetic Andrew liked to think he was, his nerves still jangled with anxiety before a match.

But they’d won, a victory Kevin and Neil took a little too gleefully, and Andrew was disgusted. He sighed and made his way upstairs, counting the stairs as he went. Like every other day. Like any other day.

Six cigarettes later, he spotted Allison’s car pull into the parking lot and watched as Neil got out from the passenger seat, grinning at Allison.

Fourteen drags of tepid tobacco smoke later, a tousled head of auburn hair made its way to where Andrew was perched.

“Andrew.”

Andrew looked over at Neil, and stilled. Neil’s lips twitched, as though waiting for permission before they could bare the razor edge of his smile.

“Junkie,” Andrew rasped out and made room for him on the ledge. Neil swung a leg over the ledge, straddling it, and moved closer to Andrew, his brand new piercing glinting in the moonlight.

Andrew tried to not look at it, but found his eyes drawn to it anyway, like a magnet.

“Do you like it?” Neil huffed out, reaching for a cigarette, and Andrew had to look away.

He didn’t know a thin gold ring had the capacity to affect him this way. Fuck.

It’s alright, I guess,” he said, but shuffled closer to Neil. He held his jaw between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the scratch of day-old stubble, and leaned closer to inspect Neil’s left ear.

“Why?”

Neil shrugged. “Allison wanted one. And I thought I’d get one too.”

“Nothing flashy though,” he grinned, and Andrew hummed in response.

“Did it hurt?”

“Like a bitch.”

At that, Andrew leaned in slowly, heard the hitch in Neil’s breath and bypassed his lips altogether. He grazed the piercing with his lips, testing Neil’s reaction.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil gasped.

Andrew sucked the ring into his mouth, biting down gently on his earlobe, shivering at the sound of Neil’s low gasp. He trailed a line of kisses down his jaw and moved to his neck.

“Tease,” Neil gasped again.

“Speak for yourself, Josten,” Andrew growled, before pressing him into the concrete.

“It’s fucking hot, and you know it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this. I had a lot of fun writing this xx  
> I'm on [Tumblr](https://alex-wh0.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alex_wh0).


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